Raising Hamish
by ficklefleshandbatedbreath
Summary: John and Sherlock end up with a baby to raise as their own. Sorry if I get any British slang wrong or use an American word for something they don't usually say in the UK. I'm American, sorry. haha. Also, rated T because I might add some more racy situations later on.
1. Chapter 1

"John Watson, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Sherlock quickly snatched the phone out of his flatmate's hand.  
"What do I think I'm doing? Sherlock you've gone mad! We can't keep this.. this thing! We have to call Lestrade or someone who will know what to do with.. it." John grasped for his phone, to no avail. Unfortunately, Sherlock had quite the advantage on him height-wise, and those long, skinny arms weren't much help to John either, considering Sherlock held the mobile far above his head. It really would have made for a cute, childlike "keep-away" situation, had it not been such a serious moment.  
"I can handle this. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. I can handle anything. I do not need, nor do I want anyone hindering me from this task." Sherlock sneered in his usual manner. "Furthermore, you sound like an idiot. It is not proper to address a human child as an 'it'. He or she is used, depending on the gender of said child."  
John's ears quickly became a bright pink, "Do you really think I don't know that? Sherlock, for a genius you are the most dense person I have ever met. I didn't know if it was a boy or girl, so I used something gender-neutral."  
"Once again, your idiocy is blaring. The child's clothes are blue which customarily indicates a boy. Despite the fact this particular shade of blue does not come off as very masculine.." Sherlock murmured the last part as he was mostly just thinking aloud.  
John sighed, rubbing his forehead. There really was no use reasoning with someone so.. well, unreasonable. "What, exactly, do you plan on doing with HIM then? Sherlock, if you think I'll let you experiment on a baby you have got-"  
Sherlock cut him off with a quick snigger, "As much fun as that does sound, it is not what I have planned for young Hamish."  
"Hamish? Funny you should pick that name considering I suggested it months ago. It's really not like you to actually listen. More importantly though, why the hell are you naming the thing? You can't keep it! If you name it, you'll just get attached!"  
Sherlock laughed once more. "Attached? I am Sherlock Holmes and I do not get emotionally attached. Emotions are a waste of time. I am merely intrigued. In the time I've spent with Hamish, I noticed that he seems to be a bit intellectually advanced for his age, as was I, and I feel it would be beneficial for him to be raised around someone mentally strong so that he may live up to his full potential. Furthermore, it would give me some insight regarding the growth of humans, considering I have never witnessed it apart from my own growth, which was relatively difficult to document and review."  
John shook his head dejectedly, "Are you saying you want to raise this child, just to study it? Christ, Sherlock, can't you just read a book on the subject?"  
"I have read many, but books do not equate to actual experience." Sherlock said this in such a way as to suggest it was painfully obvious.  
"And how exactly do you plan to care for him? You can barely take care of yourself, Sherlock! If it weren't for Mrs. Hudson and I, who knows what you'd be up to." John looked his flatmate in the eye, trying to figure out what exactly he wanted with this child. True, he was an orphan. They had just wrapped up the case of his parents' murders (which, according to Sherlock, were "dreadfully dull") and as far as they knew, he had no living relatives. He did find some moral obstacles when he considered giving him up to an orphanage. He'd heard some real shocking things about a few orphanages, although he had never seen any proof. It was unlikely they were as bad as books and other media portrayed them, but he imagined even if they did lack cruel, warden-like workers, they were still probably not the happiest of places. Surely it must feel lonely to not have any parents, no one to hold you after you had woken from a nightmare or make you a cuppa in the evening...  
John was snapped out of his pondering by Sherlock's low voice, "You make an excellent point, John. I may not always remember to eat or sleep, but you are quite adept at mundane routines such as that. Which is precisely why you will be in charge of all of that for Hamish. I simply wish to observe."  
"You expect me to care for the little one? You're the one who wants him in the first place!"  
"Not just you, Mrs. Hudson will surely help."  
"She's a bit old to take care of a.. what? One year old? Actually he doesn't even look that old..."  
"Certainly not, don't most women her age wish to have grandchildren? That seems to be a reoccurring theme on most mediocre daytime television shows."  
John groaned, but he really was starting to warm up to the idea. It would be nice to have something that resembled a family. Mrs. Hudson was already a lot like a mother to them, and having a son couldn't be so bad. But... What would that make Sherlock to him? "I suppose we could take care of him at least until we find out for sure whether or not he has any other family members willing to take him. We'll see after that." Sherlock's smile betrayed his usual callous facade at that moment. John had rarely seen him so utterly pleased at something that didn't involve murder. In fact, even when involving murder, he seldom had that undeniable twinkle in his eye. It made him look a bit more endearing than usual. John shook his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Shortly after arriving back at the flat, Mrs. Hudson dropped by to see how her boys were doing. She was quite taken aback when the door was opened by Sherlock, holding a baby, of all things! "Sherlock! What are you doing with that child? You didn't take him did you? Oh!" Little Hamish gurgled happily while grasping up for Sherlock's nose. "Well, he sure is a cute thing," she smiled.  
"Not to worry, Mrs. Hudson. We came across him while on a case. He is completely parentless," Sherlock said with a smile, which was somewhat inappropriate considering the circumstance. Although, chances are slim he realized that.  
John walked up behind Sherlock, "I fixed that bottle for Hamish," he said, handing the warm milk over to the tall, lanky man beside him. "You might want to sit down and feed him." Sherlock cooperatively did so, leaving John to further explain things to Mrs. Hudson, who looked strikingly worried at the moment. John had to smile, imagining all the worst case scenarios going through her mind at the thought of Sherlock caring for a child. He certainly had the same thoughts earlier that very day.

* * *

"It was Sherlock who decided on the name?" Mrs. Hudson asked, something hard to identify in her voice. Suspicion? Perhaps.  
"Yes, well, I had suggested, quite some time ago.." John rambled, careful not to directly mention Irene.  
"Hamish was the second name that came to mind." Sherlock explained.  
"And what was the first?" Mrs. Hudson smiled, that same suspicion dripping off of her words.  
"Irrelevant. His name is Hamish." Sherlock dodged her question, which was certainly characteristic of him, but something about his demeanor seemed a bit off. John noticed he did seem just slightly flustered, which of course was very uncharacteristic of Sherlock.  
"How long will you have him?" Mrs. Hudson was now holding a sleeping Hamish in her arms, rocking him gently. He fell asleep quite soon after eating. Having a full belly tends to have that effect.  
Sherlock began to answer but John quickly interrupted, "We've asked Lestrade to look for any relatives we should consult, but so far we know of none. If all goes well until then, we may end up keeping him. I'm not too sure about all of this, but Sherlock has been adamant, per the norm."  
Mrs. Hudson smiled affectionately at her two - make that three - boys. She'd always thought there was a bit more to Sherlock than he would admit. It was nice to see him showing some signs of being human. She practically chuckled at the thought.  
"Would you mind making a cuppa?" John asked. "Perhaps some biscuits?"  
"Not your housekeeper," she replied, but she handed Hamish off to John and got up to make one anyway. "It's awful messy in here, no place to raise a baby!" She shouted from the kitchen.  
John looked down at Hamish, stroking his little palm with his own finger tip and smiling when Hamish gripped it. "It's just a reflex, it doesn't mean he's fond of you," Sherlock stated dryly. He seemed a bit like a jealous child letting another person hold his favorite toy, anxiously awaiting its return.  
"Surely he'll grow to like me more than you. I don't leave body parts in the fridge, for one thing." John teased lightly, but looked up to realize Sherlock did look a bit bothered by the comment, if only for a split second. He quickly shook it off and scooted closer to John, legs now pressed together. Although John knew Sherlock had only wanted to get closer to Hamish, as he was now examining him closely and testing that "reflex" he had just mentioned to John, the warmth of the other man's thigh next to his did send a little shiver down his spine. The sensation was quickly pushed out of mind, as Sherlock seemed to have gotten a bit too close to Hamish, who woke with a start and began crying. Panic flickered in Sherlock's eyes, who quickly and carefully took him out of John's arms.  
"Oh dear, is everything alright in there?" Mrs. Hudson called out.  
"Just fine!" John replied. Quieter, he asked, "Do you even know what to do when a baby cries?" It seemed obvious that Sherlock didn't, as his countenance looked completely bewildered.  
"Of course I do, John! I am a genius.." He looked lost in thought for a second. "Obviously one of his needs are not met. He just ate so it can't be that. He was also just sleeping.. What else is there..?" Sherlock's face lit up with an idea, so that you could practically see a light bulb appear above his head. He cautiously sniffed the air near Hamish, before frowning slightly. Apparently his conclusion was not correct. "What else could it be?" he wondered aloud.  
"You just scared him a bit, is all." John smiled and shook his head. Of course Sherlock would forget about things like emotional needs. Raising a child with this man really was going to be a bit difficult. "Try bouncing him, just slightly, gentle! There you go."  
Hamish had quieted down and Sherlock looked quite pleased with himself. He was absolutely full of surprises today. John never thought he'd see as much emotion from this man in his entire life as he had in this one day. "You're not fooling anyone, you know."  
Sherlock tore his eyes from the baby to meet John's, "I am unaware what you are currently trying to imply." His eyes betrayed him with a slight look of panic.  
"You really like Hamish, in fact you care for him."  
"I care for nothing." Sherlock looked a bit less panicked, as if this wasn't what he was expecting.  
Instead of starting a fight he knew could not be won, John just sighed and went into the kitchen to help Mrs. Hudson.


	3. Chapter 3

A week had gone by since Hamish was first brought home to 221B. Since then, Lestrade had reported that the baby did not have any living relatives, Mrs. Hudson had supplied them with a crib left by an old tenant, and John and Sherlock had both grown closer to the baby and each other. Although Sherlock might not ever admit it. John and Sherlock had also taken to sleeping in the same room, since they only had one baby monitor. Even though Sherlock promised he would help, he rarely took care of Hamish when he cried at night, which was luckily not too often, so that responsibility was left to John.  
They had found out that Hamish was just under six months old, his birthday was November 19th, and that his real name was Rupert Thomas Brimble, and they were happy to have changed it to Hamish Alexander Holmes. John let Sherlock give Hamish his last name, since it was thanks to his convincing that they had the child. They were currently filing all the required paperwork to make the adoption and name change official. Still, despite how well things were going, something had been bothering John quite a bit. He had a little trouble putting his finger on it, but there was something about sharing the experience of caring for a child with Sherlock that made him uneasy. Not that he didn't like it, he truly enjoyed the time spent with his flatmate. There was just... something missing. John was afraid that he did know what that something was and he just couldn't yet come to terms with it. But occasionally his mind betrayed him with images of him and Sherlock. Dreams, even during the day, about their future together. Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to think it over any further as Hamish began to cry over the baby monitor. John peeled himself up off the sofa, dragging his feet all the way to Hamish's room.

* * *

Although the crying had woken Sherlock, he couldn't be bothered to get up, not that John expected him to. He did, however, open his eyes slightly to peek at John as he walked back into the room, holding Hamish. Sherlock loved to observe John, especially when John was not aware. True, he loved to observe everything, but when he was watching John it was slightly different. He could feel a fondness growing warm in his chest every time he saw John smile down at Hamish. He was sure he'd never admit it, though.  
Well, perhaps not entirely sure... Previously he had tried to ignore his affection for John, but in light of recent events, it had become the most prevalent thing on his mind. Surely anyone in a similar situation would also begin to fancy one another. He had to admit, it wasn't the first time he'd felt this way, but it certainly was the strongest he'd ever felt it. Irene Addler did hold some of his affection, but not a quarter as much as John now had. He could tell, of course, that his love (he shuddered at the thought, it really is a dreadful thing) was not unrequited. John obviously had feelings for Sherlock, but neither was sure exactly how much. Sherlock had noticed the physical signs straight away. Pupils dilated, pulse increased, and the slight blush he got just across his nose and cheeks. It really was adorable to see him blush. The biggest problem was whether John would realize his feelings or not. They were there, Sherlock was positive, but whether or not John learned to accept them was its own problem. He had always been accepting of homosexuality, but very clear that he wasn't. If only he could see it more as the spectrum that it was instead of black and white.

"Sherlock? I know you're up. You're bloody obvious, you know," John whispered.  
"Had it occurred to you I was not attempting to hide it?" Sherlock sat up in his bed, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked John up and down, examining and re-examining him as he so often did.  
"What?" John inquired.  
"Nothing."  
John sighed. All was quiet for a few moments, but not to the point of awkwardness. "I'm actually really glad this all happened. You, Hamish, it all feels... Well, it's like finally being home after a long vacation."  
Sherlock raised his eyebrows at this confession, trying hard (and failing) to keep the smile off his face. He was lucky it was fairly dark, otherwise John would see him blushing. He hesitantly got up to sit down on the couch next to John, leaning close to him. You know, in order to see the baby.. Well, that was the excuse he had ready.  
"You're not going to say anything?"  
"About?"  
"You're impossible."  
"I'm here, am I not? That should be answer enough."  
John smiled and inadvertently rested slightly against Sherlock. Blimey, Sherlock was a sight to behold. Perfectly tousled hair, his lanky upper body in a white sleep shirt, his eyes tired. The word flawless came to mind, and John chuckled at the inaccuracy. Sherlock was something alright, but it was far from flawless. He was hard-headed, arrogant, frustrating, impolite.. The list goes on and on. Oddly enough, it was these quirks and faults that John had really grown to love.

Love?

John's breath caught in his throat for a moment as all of the feelings that had been lingering at the edge of his psyche suddenly burst to the forefront of his mind. There would be no more denying his feelings after this epiphany, he knew. Now he just had to focus on hiding them. At least until he had more time to sort through them and make a decision. Being a military man, he had a habit of approaching everything strategically.

"Well, I'll be getting back to bed then." Sherlock announced, smirking. John really was an open book, whether he knew it or not.  
"That's probably for the best. Hamish is already growing out of these clothes. Tomorrow I was thinking we could go out and find some more. So, uh, y'know, make sure to wake up in time."  
"Why would I need to accompany you to do such a menial errand?"  
"I just thought you might-"  
"Thought? I seriously doubt that you did. Good night, John," and with that their conversation was over.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock and John walked down the aisles in the infant clothing section, Hamish sleeping contently in his stroller. "This one looks nice, don't you think, Sherlock?" John asked while examining some light blue footie pajamas. Sherlock only rolled his eyes in response.  
"Why does he sleep so much? It's rather boring," he whined.  
"Sherlock! He's a baby! They need lots of sleep."  
"Yes, I'm aware of that."  
"Then what's the problem?" John inquired, raising an eyebrow at his irritable companion.  
"I'm bored! We haven't worked a case since we got the thing!"  
"Thing? That thing is your son now and, might I remind you, it was your idea to take him in!" John was absolutely floored by Sherlock's behavior. He thought even Sherlock would have a little more decency.  
"Well, I had no idea the time that would go into taking care of him. I mean, really, why must we walk around this bloody shop, deciding upon clothes he's going to grow out of? Just wrap him in a sheet!"  
"You know damn well we can't do that!"  
"It's good enough for me!"  
"Sherlock, what the hell has gotten into you?"  
With that final shout, a security guard walked around the corner.  
"Gentleman, I'm going to have to ask you to either quiet down or leave. You're causing a disturbance. Now I know bein' a young couple with a new baby is tough but-"  
John's face turn a particularly deep shade of what could only be described as tomato red, while Sherlock smirked slightly.  
"This man is quite right. Come on, love. We should settle this at home." Sherlock could scarcely contain his amusement at the guard's misconception. He had to admit, he liked that people saw them together and instantly assumed "couple". John, embarrassed, was rendered incapable of speech and was therefore unable to explain any further, so he reluctantly followed Sherlock out the door.  
"I hope you're pleased with yourself, Sherlock. I'm beginning to think you're not fit to be a guardian. And what was that, huh? 'Come on, love'? Why didn't you correct that man?"  
"I disagree entirely, and that is a very good question. Why didn't you?"  
John's mouth fell open a bit at having his own question turned against him. "I, I uh, I just wasn't able to-" he stammered.  
"You were embarrassed to be thought of as a homosexual."  
"No! That's not it I was just-" he grasped desperately for words but found none.  
"Don't deny it. Have you considered, John, that you do in fact show many homosexual tendencies?" Sherlock was past being inconspicuous and couldn't keep the smile from his face, having cornered John in such a way.  
John wanted to deny it, but his mouth betrayed him by asking, "How so?"  
"For starters, you're an adult male living with another adult male. Now, that wouldn't be so strange if it weren't for the fact that almost every thing you do revolves around this person. A heterosexual man, for example, would probably not abandon dates to check up on their roomate and certainly wouldn't spend as much time together as we do." Sherlock was now holding his skull from atop the mantle. He turned it in his hands as he spoke. "Those are all red flags, sure, but let's get to the more substantial part. The meat of it, if you will. When you look at me, your pupils dilate. I've taken note, on several occasions, of your pulse quickening, your body temperature rising, and many other physical indicators of attraction." Sherlock's smile had turned into a full blown grin and mischief danced behind his eyes. "Not to mention the other night you moaned my name in your sleep."  
John slammed his fists down onto the coffee table. "Damn you, I have had enough of this nonsense!" He quickly exited the flat, slamming the door behind him. Sherlock was left alone with Hamish.  
"Your father really can be difficult," he said softly to the baby who had woken up, startled by the loud noises. Sherlock picked Hamish up and bounced him the way John had instructed that first day to help calm him down. Taking care of a child was actually starting to feel a little natural for him. It wasn't easy at first. He had spent countless hours pouring over all kinds of parenting books, reading all he could on the subject. As heartless as Sherlock seemed, there really was a lot more beneath the hard exterior. It wasn't that he tried to hide it, really, he just wasn't sure how to express it. Growing up with a family like his where emotions were bottled up and unacknowledged, it wasn't hard to believe. Mycroft was a little more open than Sherlock in admitting how much he cared for his little brother, but he had that same insensitive nature. Sherlock knew emotions were a hindrance to mental progress, a chink in the armor of the mind. Even so, he sometimes wished it had been different for him.  
Three light taps on the door surprised Sherlock. He carried Hamish with him to answer the door.  
"Bit of a domestic, I take it?" Mrs. Hudson said with her usual softness.  
"Just a bit. It would help if John wasn't so stubborn, of-"  
"Funny you should be accusing anyone of stubbornness!" She cut him off, laughing quietly.  
"It's not being stubborn if I'm right," Sherlock smiled fondly, "and I always am, of course."  
"Now, now. We both know that isn't true," Mrs. Hudson sighed. "I didn't stop in to argue, though. I just wanted to make sure all was well. It is, isn't it?" Her eyebrows rose with concern.  
"Just peachy, I'm sure he'll be back soon."  
After extinguishing any worry she might have had and closing the door behind her, Sherlock began to wonder what would happen when John came back. Surely, he'd have to, even if it was only to collect his things and move out. Although that possibility was doubtful, the thought of it was a bit unnerving.


End file.
